


can you feel my heart beating, underneath these stars?

by ixalit



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Come Marking, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Tent Sex, implied bottom sebastian stan, well... tent handjobs and grinding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:33:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixalit/pseuds/ixalit
Summary: Sebastian doesn’t know who invented camping, but he’d like to tell them that it was a shitty idea. He doesn’t see how sleeping on cold, hard ground with mosquitoes and spiders and snakes and coyotes and god only knows what else could ever be considered “fun.” It’s definitely not his idea of fun. And yet, here he is, somewhere in the middle of the San Bernardino Forest with his castmates and a catering crew.Or, the "only one bed" trope with a camping twist. Feelings, stargazing, spooning, and smut ensue!
Relationships: Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan
Comments: 29
Kudos: 225





	can you feel my heart beating, underneath these stars?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musette22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musette22/gifts).



> Happy (belated) birthday, Minnie! 
> 
> When I learned it was your birthday, I got inspired to write some fluffy, smutty, Evanstan feels, and this tumbled out of me in about eight hours. Hope you like it!
> 
> Huge thanks to [darter_blue](/users/darter_blue/) / [@darter-blue](https://tumblr.com/blog/darter-blue) and [Flamingle](/users/flamingle/) / [@rainbowsandcoconut](https://rainbowsandcoconut.tumblr.com) for the wonderful beta work!

Sebastian doesn’t know who invented camping, but he’d like to tell them that it was a shitty idea. He doesn’t see how sleeping on cold, hard ground with mosquitoes and spiders and snakes and coyotes and god only knows what else could ever be considered “fun.” It’s definitely not _his_ idea of fun. And yet, here he is, somewhere in the middle of the San Bernardino Forest with his castmates - the original six Avengers actors - and a catering crew. 

The new production manager had bought out an entire campground, convinced it would be a good bonding experience. As if. When the big van pulled up, they each spread out in a different direction, all managing to find spots far enough apart to barely be seen by their neighbors. Probably a Los Angeles thing. Living in New York has desensitized Sebastian to the too-much-too-close feeling of people everywhere. Now, he’s just worrying how he’ll ever get to sleep without the familiar glow of streetlights and the white noise of traffic and sirens. That is, if he’ll even be able to relax surrounded by dark, lurking shadows and strange animal noises. 

He swats the air beside his ear, trying to banish the high pitched buzzing of a mosquito. God, that’s such an awful sound - it’s gotta be up there with nails on a chalkboard. Burrowing into his sweater and pulling the cords of the hood tighter around his face, he settles into the navy nylon camp chair and takes a sip of his beer. 

After eventually getting all of their tents set up in their respective corners of the campground and getting dinner from the catering truck, the OG Six plus Sebastian (as Hemsworth had deemed them long ago) had circled around a fancy cast iron fire pit. They’d dragged over a cooler full of drinks and collectively relaxed, for the first time in a while, as the light turned from golden to red and eventually disappeared around them. 

Sebastian’s been quiet most of the evening, humming and laughing and listening to the others’ ideas and stories. Scarlett’s fiance, Hemsworth’s and Downey’s kids, Mark’s activism, Renner’s music, Chris’... Well, he’d bet good money he’d been talking about Dodger, but really, Sebastian had been doing more watching than listening. 

He’d watched the way Chris wiggled toward the edge of his seat when he got excited. How his hands moved in big, swooping gestures, giving life to whatever he was talking about. When Chris’ tongue poked out to wet his lips, Sebastian’s eyes had tracked the movement, and when his lips curled around a smile, Sebastian’s breath stuttered in his chest. He’d noticed that when it shone just right, the sun augmented the highlights in Chris’ beard, turning it a dark auburn color. 

As the night wears on and dusk settles around them, Sebastian catches himself continuing to watch Chris. He notices how relaxed Chris looks. He seems so in his element, like he belongs here, deep in the woods. The nervous ticks he has around the press, fans, almost _everybody_ , have all but melted away, leaving a content man, smiling freely, in their place. 

Sebastian’s eyes are drawn back to Chris’ mouth when he rubs a hand over his beard. In the low light, he sees a smirk slowly spread across Chris’ face. Then he watches as those lips curl around his nickname at the same time he hears it. 

He snaps his head up just in time to catch the playful edge to Chris’ gaze. “Just wanted to see if you were listening, kid,” Chris chuckles, and as heat rises in Sebastian’s cheeks, he can only hope it’s too dark for anyone to notice. 

“Alright, guys, I think it’s my bedtime,” Chris says, standing up and stretching with a yawn. 

When Chris walks by, he claps a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, smiling down at him. Sebastian gives his best approximation of a light, teasing smile, but misses the mark if the crease in Chris’ brow is anything to go by. 

Keeping his gaze strictly on the fire, he wills himself not to turn and watch Chris walk away. That doesn’t stop his brain from imagining, though, showing him a collage of images from the countless times in the past that he’s let himself look. 

Sebastian stays with the others until it’s just Scarlett, Hemsworth, and himself, and helps them douse the flames and bring the cooler back to the truck. He waves goodnight and heads to his tent. Which is very inconveniently but maybe purposefully situated next to Chris’. At least it had been helpful when he’d realized he had absolutely no idea how to set up a tent, much less the best way to secure it. Chris had been quick to come over and lend a hand, teaching him how to put the poles in and hammer the stakes in at a good angle. 

As if Sebastian will ever willingly do this again. At least he got to hear Chris say “erect” when he’d explained how to make the tent stand up. That’s gotta be on at least one person’s bucket list. 

Sighing and reminding himself it’s only two nights, Sebastian tugs down the zipper and tries to think of the best way to avoid filling the tent with dirt. He does an awkward twist and sits down with his feet still outside. He unties and pulls off his sneakers, setting them on the ground next to the door. Finally, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, turns on the flashlight, and starts rummaging through the pile of stuff he’d haphazardly tossed in earlier. 

And... shit. 

No. No no no no _no._ God _fucking_ dammit. 

His sleeping bag isn’t here. As if this whole camping thing wasn’t bad enough. Without a bag, he’ll have nothing between his body and the chilly March night. Not to mention how exposed he’ll feel. However ineffectual, the feathered bag would have given him some sense of safety - something to pull tighter around his body when the weird noises of the trees and animals got to him. 

_Fuck._

He remembers stuffing it into its bag, knows he brought it to the studio, can see it lying there in his mind’s eye, ready to be loaded into the van. And then… and then Chris had shown up and he’d apparently stopped keeping track of his stuff. Like an idiot. 

What was the evolutionary point of a… a _crush,_ if it meant he stopped thinking anything useful the second he was around that person? And now he wasn’t going to get _any_ sleep, if he even had any chance of that before. And he’s probably going to freeze and get a cold and they might have to delay production for him and that would be an absolute nightmare and—

Sebastian’s thoughts are becoming more frantic by the second, spiraling head first into worst case scenarios and leaving him scrambling in the dust. 

He sits back. Takes a breath, then another. When he’s calmed down enough to think, he tries to remember what his therapist told him to do when this happens. Right. Facts. Then problem solve. Okay. He can do that. 

Fact one: he’s in his tent, alone. But his friends are nearby. Fact two: he doesn’t have a sleeping bag. 

Now the problem solving. He could see if there’s another bag somewhere, but it’s unlikely anyone thought to bring _two_ sleeping bags on such a short trip. Plus, he isn’t crazy about walking around the entire campground by himself right now. So, no to that. Well, maybe. But only if nothing else works. 

Option two, he could see if he could share a tent with someone. It’d be warmer and he might actually feel safe enough to get some sleep. Okay, that sounds better than the first one. But… the closest person is Chris. Again: _Shit._

He thinks for a few more minutes, but comes up with nothing. (And, okay, maybe he wants to spend the night in Chris’ tent. Maybe.)

He puts it off as long as he can, changing into his pajamas, brushing his teeth, and inflating his pad, but eventually, he has to go. Steeling himself, he tugs on his shoes, grabs his pad, zips the tent closed, and uses his phone’s flash to light the short walk to Chris’ tent. 

Sebastian winds a path into the woods, carefully stepping over rocks and fallen branches. Surrounded by big trees and thick bushes, Chris’ tent sits in the middle of a clearing. The site is far more secluded than his own, hidden by the forest and private enough that it feels like there’s no one else around. 

Chris hasn’t put the rain fly on, leaving only the mosquito netting between him and Sebastian’s light.

“Jesus, man! Turn that off, will ya?” Chris’ rough voice comes from inside. At least he doesn’t sound like he was already asleep. 

“Oh, sorry! Sorry. I, um—” Sebastian tries desperately not to drop his phone in the dirt as he fumbles to turn off the light. 

“Seb?” 

“Yeah, it’s me. Hey,” he presses his lips together, puts his hands behind his back, and shifts his weight nervously. 

“Everything alright? You okay?”

“Yeah, I just, y’know… Sorry. I think I forgot my sleeping bag back at the studio.”

“Really? Fuck. Well, you can sleep with me,” Chris says, and Sebastian coughs at his words. “I mean— That sounded— You know what I meant.” Chris reaches for the zipper and tugs the door open. When Sebastian hesitates, he says, “C’mon, man. Before you let all the bugs in.” He fiddles with a small lantern until there’s a soft yellow glow illuminating the tent. 

Slowly, Sebastian lays his pad next to Chris’, sits down the same way he had in his own tent, takes off his shoes, and zips himself in. With Chris. Very close to Chris. 

He stretches his legs out, trying to take up as little space as he can in the already small tent, and turns to Chris. He’s lying in his bag, propped up on an elbow, and watching Sebastian closely. That kind of focus from Chris - the intense, “I can tell what you’re thinking” kind - always makes him squirm, makes him feel like he’s under a microscope, and he can’t help getting a little hot and bothered when it’s turned on him. 

“Get in.”

“What?” Sebastian’s eyes widen in surprise. Surely Chris doesn’t mean— 

“Get in my bag with me. It’s big. There’s enough room.”

“No, I—”

“Sebastian,” Sebastian shivers at the sound of his full name in Chris’ voice, “I’m not letting you freeze your ass off and get sick when I’m right here with a perfectly good bag.” He holds open the bag. 

Chris is right. It is a giant sleeping bag, plaid flannel lined and easily big enough for two grown men. And it looks very warm. Sebastian imagines how it would feel, to crawl into that warmth, be cocooned by the bag and maybe even Chris’ arms. He thinks about what it would be like to fall asleep feeling Chris breathing beside him, knowing he could reach out and touch his hand if he wanted to. 

Yeah, okay. This is an opportunity that won’t come along again. Sebastian’s therapist is always telling him to accept help when he needs it, and isn’t that what this is? A friend offering to help him out?

Nodding hesitantly, he scoots over and shuffles slowly, feet first, into the bag, carefully not touching Chris more than necessary. 

“There ya go,” Sebastian shivers as he feels Chris’ voice rumble in his chest. 

Chris switches off the light, and they lay down shoulder to shoulder, heads both resting on the single pillow. Sebastian holds his breath. 

“Hmm. See that?” Chris says after what feels like years, pointing to the sky, a little left of center.

Sebastian finds it immediately, “The Pleiades. I always loved that story.” When he glances at Chris, he’s still watching the sky. Under the shroud of night, nothing seems real. Words don’t hold the same weight and secrets can float into the darkness. He takes a deep, steadying breath, “My mom used to tell it to me. When I was little.”

Chris turns to face him at that, but stays silent. 

“She’d bring me up to the roof of our apartment during the blackouts,” he laughs softly at the bittersweet memory. “Wrap me up in a blanket and sit me on her knee while she pointed out all the constellations she knew. Told me all the stories, too.” When he looks over at Chris, their faces are close enough that he can see the faint smile softening his face. 

“I’m really glad she did,” is all Chris says, and Sebastian finds himself smiling right back. Chris is good like that. Even if he doesn’t understand, he has a way of making you feel completely heard and understood that’s unlike anyone else. 

They settle back to watch the sky again, and this time Sebastian isn’t stiff as a board. In fact, he’s more relaxed than he’s been since the van bounced up the dirt road all those hours ago. 

“Taurus,” Chris points again, a few minutes later, “Right under the moon, near the Pleiades.”

Sebastian follows the path from Chris’ finger. He finds Aldebaran and maps out Taurus in the stars. “Mmm,” he nods, “You’ve got a tattoo of that, right?”

Chris turns to face him. “Yeah. My mom’s a Taurus, I got it for her,” he reaches over and pulls up the left sleeve of his tee shirt, knuckles knocking Sebastian’s shoulder. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Sebastian turns onto his side and can’t help reaching out. At Chris’ sharp intake of breath, he draws his hand back, “Sorry.”

“No, go ahead,” Chris whispers. 

He reaches out again, hiding his nerves under the blanket of darkness. He can just make out the shadow of dark ink against pale skin as he traces the lines. “It’s beautiful.”

“Seb—” Chris breathes, rolling onto his side.

Sebastian looks at him, holds his breath at the expression on Chris’ face. And then Chris is raising his hand, slowly, telegraphing his movement. He seems so unsure, more lost than Sebastian’s ever seen him.

“Please,” Sebastian says, so quietly it’s almost lost the second it leaves his lips. As soon as he’s said it, Chris’ fingers find his jaw, wrap around the back of his neck. 

They’re so close Sebastian can feel Chris’ breath ghosting over his lips. It’s almost as if he can already taste him. 

And then they’re kissing. Just a gentle press of lips, full of bated breath and uncertainty. Chris pulls back a centimeter, probably about to ask if that was okay, if he made a mistake or messed something up, and Sebastian can’t have that. He closes the gap, probably a little too fast because their noses bump and Chris lets out a hushed sound of surprise, but then they’re actually kissing. Slow and deep and more perfect than any of Sebastian’s fantasies. 

Moaning softly into his mouth, Chris runs his tongue along the seam of Sebastian’s lips. When Sebastian lets him in, feels Chris’ tongue against his own, heat rushes through his core, down to the tips of his toes. He tastes of mint and, beneath that, Sebastian can pick out the faint notes of his Stella from earlier, and he wants more. 

Once he gets into it, Chris kisses with effortless command. Moves Sebastian where he wants him with a gentle hand and takes his mouth like there’s nothing more important. His gentle nips and teasing tongue have Sebastian breathing out delicate little whimpers. His wandering hands in Sebastian’s hair, on his sides, have him lost in the sensation, simultaneously too much and not enough. 

Chris rolls him easily onto his back, pushing him down into the thin sleeping pad and caging him with his thick arms. Bit by bit, he starts lessening the intensity of their kisses until he’s just pressing little pecks against Sebastian’s lips. When he pulls away fully, they’re both grinning like idiots. 

“If I’d have known that would be your reaction, I would’ve done that a lot sooner,” Sebastian whispers. 

“Me too,” Chris says, rolling off and propping himself up on his elbow again, running a hand over Sebastian’s chest. “How long have you… wanted to?”

Sebastian throws a hand over his eyes and crunches his nose up, making Chris giggle. “Oh, god. Um. A while.”

“Winter Soldier?”

He gives Chris a look, “Earlier.”

“Oh. _Oh._ Really? Seb, that’s… that’s almost a decade,” Chris says, and he’s not laughing now. He’s just watching him with a strange look on his face like he’s trying to tell if Sebastian’s lying. Or maybe he’s trying to decide if Sebastian’s really that much of a coward to not do anything about his feelings for a quarter of his life. “Hey,” Chris gently taps his cheek, “At least I get you now, yeah?” 

“Yeah.”

“Still got plenty of time together,” and _oh,_ that means there’s going to be time together in the future. 

“I’d like that.”

“Good,” Chris says in a hushed voice, beaming, “Now turn over. I’m tired and I’ve wanted to cuddle with you since before I knew I wanted to kiss you.”

Sebastian’s laugh is broken up by a yawn, and he nods sleepily. He turns onto his side, wriggling back snug against Chris’ chest, warm and secure in the sleeping bag. Chris shoves one arm under the pillow and wraps the other around Sebastian’s waist, coming to rest securely in the middle of his chest. 

After Chris’ breathing evens out, Sebastian is still awake, listening to the breeze rustle the trees, the occasional owl. It’s probably the furthest he could get from home, lacking all the comforts of the city, but, surprisingly, he feels completely safe. Maybe it’s Chris. It’s probably Chris. 

Slowly, he lets his mind fall silent. Instead of focusing on the mysterious noises and troubling shapes of the forest, he concentrates on the puffs of Chris’ breath on his neck, on the rise and fall of Chris’ chest against his back. He pretends that’s the only movement in the still world, and lets it lull him to sleep.

• • •

When Sebastian wakes up, it’s to the scratch of a beard and the soft press of lips against his neck. He freezes up at first, going stiff, until the memory of last night plays through his mind. How he’d climbed into Chris’ tent, into his sleeping bag. How they’d found constellations in the stars and ended up tangled together, kissing... Oh, god, that _kiss._

He brings his fingertips to his lips, convinced he can still feel the press of Chris’ mouth, the faint sting of teeth, and blinks his eyes open. It’s still early, the world around him is still cold with just the faintest blue light of dawn lighting the black sky. A few birds are just starting to wake up, chirping their crisp notes through the trees. 

Chris’ arm tightens around him where it’s still draped over his waist, pulling him back into his sturdy chest. “Mmh mornin’,” Chris says, voice rumbling and low from sleep. He rolls up and kisses the side of Sebastian’s neck, “Sleep well?” 

“Mhm,” Sebastian sighs. When he wiggles back into the cradle of Chris’ hips, he feels the hot press of Chris’ hard cock against his ass, and his breath catches. “I see you definitely slept well,” he laughs, even as he starts moving his hips in barely perceptible circles. 

“With you here? Of course I did.”

“Fuck,” Sebastian whispers, “Chris...”

“Yeah?”

_“Please."_

He laces his fingers through Chris’ where they’re lying on his stomach and moves both their hands down to rest on his own half-hard cock. Chris continues pressing soft kisses to his neck and sends a shiver through Sebastian’s body when he traces the tip of his tongue around the shell of Sebastian’s ear. 

He presses his broad palm to Sebastian’s cock, kneading the hard flesh through his pajama pants and rocking against his ass. Sebastian lets himself be held, rocked between the two points, pleasure rolling through his body and clouding his mind. He lets out a quiet whine when Chris pulls his hand away. 

“Just getting lube, sweetheart,” Chris says, and _oh,_ he wasn’t expecting pet names. Wasn’t prepared to feel completely cherished with just one word. 

Is he Chris’ sweetheart now? Will Chris call him that when they’re alone? Ask him to do completely mundane things with a “pass the sugar, will you sweetheart?” God, he hopes so. 

When he recovers from his sudden daydream, he manages to ask, “You brought lube on a camping trip?”

“Of course I brought lube,” Chris laughs, pulling it from a pocket of his bag, along with a tee shirt he sets in front of Sebastian. Then he rolls back into his previous position and adds in a low purr, directly beside his ear, “I have needs, Sebastian.”

“Jesus fuck,” Sebastian whispers shakily, and doesn’t have time to add anything else before Chris is pulling Sebastian’s pants down over his ass and pushing his own sweatpants below his cock. 

As Chris spreads lube over his cock and Sebastian’s ass, Sebastian can’t help but glance over his shoulder and oh _fuck_. He’s been with plenty of men, seen even more dicks, but he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted one inside him as much as he does right now. 

It’s as if Chris can read his mind, or maybe his hunger is just that transparent, but when he looks up at Sebastian’s face, he chuckles lightly. “I’m not gonna fuck you right now, honey. Gonna wait for that, do it properly. In a real bed,” and okay, that makes sense. Doesn’t mean Sebastian can’t pout about it a little. 

But he can’t stay disappointed for long, not when Chris is wrapping around him, hard cock nestled between his cheeks, sliding easily with the lube. Pulling Sebastian soundly against his chest, Chris pushes the front of his pants down over his cock and wraps a hand loosely around him, still slick with lube.

Sebastian hisses at the contact, pushing his hips back and making Chris groan against his neck. Chris starts moving his hand, pulling Sebastian’s foreskin with every tug, at the same moment he starts leisurely thrusting his hips. 

It’s intoxicating, the way he’s rocked between Chris’ body and his hand. He can only hear the quiet gasps of their labored breathing and choked off moans, wrapping around him like a balm he didn’t know he needed. Pleasure rolls through his body whenever Chris’ balls press against his ass, and every swipe of Chris’ thumb over the sensitive head of his cock sends electricity shooting through him. 

Under the sleeping bag, Chris pulls Sebastian’s top leg up and back, over Chris’ own thigh, making his ass cheeks squeeze tighter around Chris’ cock. 

“Fuck,” Chris groans into his hair, “So good, baby. That’s so, so good.”

The praise makes Sebastian’s body sing, and when Chris starts thrusting harder and the tip of his cock catches just slightly on his rim, he has to bury his face in the pillow to stop from yelling out. He reaches blindly for Chris’ hand again and brings it down to his cock. As Chris strokes him, Sebastian trails his own fingers down to hold his balls, press his fingers into that spot behind them. 

“Ah! Gonna— Chris, gonna come.”

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” Chris says in his ear, deep and rough and perfect, “Come for me.”

And he does, giving in to the sensations, all his muscles pulling tight and shaking apart with the waves of pleasure. He lets out his loudest moan yet, biting into the pillow as hot ropes of come land on his wrist and stomach, covering Chris’ hand. 

When he opens his eyes, Chris is using the tee shirt to wipe up most of the mess on his hand and Sebastian’s stomach. “I can do that,” he slurs, drunk on happiness and the remainder of sleep, “Keep going.”

Chris’ cock is still hard between Sebastian’s cheeks, moving with each minute shift of his hips. “Really?” 

“Yes, really,” he says in a hushed voice, “Want you to come all over my ass.”

_“Fuck,"_ Chris groans, “Can’t just say things like that, baby.”

Sebastian hides his laugh in the pillow, and starts grinding back with purpose, milking Chris’ cock with every tilt of his hips.

Behind him, Chris growls and grips Sebatian’s hip tightly. Then he rolls forward, pushes Sebastian half onto his stomach, and gets his knees on either side of Sebastian’s thighs. He drapes himself over Sebastian’s back, one hand still gripping his hip, as he starts thrusting and grinding in earnest, slicked even more by his own precome. 

Sebastian knows he isn’t going to come again, can’t get hard this soon after coming anymore, but the feeling of Chris using him for his own pleasure, just taking what he needs and using Sebastian’s body to get off… It has him going boneless in Chris’ grip and losing himself in the push and pull. Every time the head of Chris’ cock brushes his hole, catching the rim, Sebastian’s eyes roll back in his head. 

“Fuck, honey, you want me to come all over your ass?” Chris whispers, “Mark you up, make you pretty? Make you _mine?”_

Sebastian whines and nods his head into the pillow. “Oh fuck yes, _please_ _,”_ he groans, arching his back as much as he can. 

Chris sits back on his heels and shoves Sebastian’s shirt up his back. The slick sounds of Chris’ hand flying over his cock fill the tent, and then he’s coming with a bitten off groan. Sebastian feels the come land on his ass and lower back, hot and sticky and perfect, marking him as Chris’. 

Sighing into the pillow, he wiggles his hips under Chris’ weight, basking in the hazy fog that’s settled over his mind. He can’t help swelling with pride at the sound of Chris’ breath, loud and harsh as it cuts through the early morning. _He_ did that. _Sebastian_ made him feel that way, satisfied and out of breath. He pleased Chris. He was _good._

When Sebastian looks over his shoulder, Chris is staring down at his back, at his come striped across Sebastian’s skin. He looks mesmerized as he brings his fingers to it and slowly starts rubbing circles, massaging it into Sebastian like he can mark him forever. As his breathing levels, he seems to snap out of it, probably blushing, if the way he hunches over self consciously and starts shuffling around for the shirt is anything to go by. Sebastian makes a mental note to let him know later just how okay he is with what Chris was doing. 

He gets off Sebastian’s thighs and pulls up his own sweatpants. He wipes up Sebastian’s back, then quickly pulls his pajama pants up and his shirt down, settling the sleeping bag over Sebastian’s shoulders to keep the chill from his skin. 

Chris flops down on his back, body pressed against Sebastian, still on his stomach. “Holy shit,” he says with a grin. 

“Mmh,” Sebastian agrees softly, head pillowed on his arms, watching Chris.

“That was—”

“Good?”

“So good,” Chris turns on his side, facing Sebastian, “You were fucking amazing, Seb. God, I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner.”

Sebastian snorts, “Guess camping is good for something, after all, huh?”

“Camping’s good for a lot of things. You’ll see,” Chris says, a big, dumb smile on his face. “We’ll take Dodger some time.”

“Oh, god no. I am _not_ sleeping in a tent with a dog. And I am _definitely_ not having sex with you in a tent with a dog.”

“But—” Chris has on his best pouty face, lip pushed out and everything. 

Sebastian laughs, “Not gonna happen, Evans.”

“Fine, fine. I will take you camping, though. Or at least hiking.”

“I can do hiking.”

“Good, I’ll hold you to that.”

They lapse into silence, smiling at each other until Sebastian needs to turn away to bury a yawn in his shoulder. 

“Don’t think the others will be up for a while if you wanna get some more sleep,” Chris says, stifling a yawn of his own. 

Sleep does sound nice, especially if he gets to be held in Chris’ arms again. It’s not like he doesn’t have a perfectly good reason to be in Chris’ tent, sharing his sleeping bag. Plus, everyone’s so spread out, they probably won’t come looking for them for a while. And even if the rest of the cast did find out about them - are they a _them_ now? - things would be fine. Mandatory ribbing aside, they all know how to keep secrets, have all benefited from PR stunts and coverups at least once in their careers. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” he says. Chris’ arms open as he looks at them, and he shuffles close, facing Chris this time. He pillows his head in the hollow above Chris’ pec and lets strong arms wrap around his shoulders as he tangles their legs together. 

Around them, the sky has become a brighter blue, horizon alight with the first tendrils of sunlight. More birds are chirping now, too, their songs melding together, harmonizing and filtering their chorus through the thick trees. 

Sebastian burrows further into Chris’ chest. Yeah, this camping thing? He’s definitely starting to see the appeal. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> This is the first smut I've shared, so any pointers and constructive criticism are welcome!
> 
> And as always, kudos, comments, and shares are greatly appreciated :)
> 
> I'm on Tumblr [@ixalit](https://tumblr.com/blog/ixalit)


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